Thoughts are divine.

Love, the poet said, is woman's whole existence.

Better was it to go unknown and leave behind you an arch, then to burn like a meteor and leave no dust.

He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

. . . clumsiness is often mated with a love of solitude.

As long as she thinks of a man, nobody objects to a woman thinking.

Nothing thicker than a knife's blade separates happiness from melancholy.

Vain trifles as they seem, clothes have, they say, more important offices than to merely keep us warm. They change our view of the world and the world's view of us.

By the truth we are undone. Life is a dream. 'Tis the waking that kills us. He who robs us of our dreams robs us of our life.

The flower bloomed and faded. The sun rose and sank. The lover loved and went. And what the poets said in rhyme, the young translated into practice.

Was not writing poetry a secret transaction, a voice answering a voice?

Soaked in painmy suits remain standingwhen I take them off - hollow men beside the closet, a museum of days.

Reputation is what men and women think of us character is what God and angels know of us.

Clearly no one knows what leadership has gone undiscovered in women of all races, and in black and other minority men.

I never start a section of the story without knowing how it will end. I also consciously try to shape the story as though it were a movie.

In the end, you have to protect yourself at all times.

If the Cowardly Lion were on RuPaul’s Drag Race, so much of my childhood would be less nightmarish.

In 1994 I bought my first tour bus. I still own it and believe it or not it's still out on the road on my tour.

It may be unfair, but what happens in a few days, sometimes even a single day, can change the course of a whole lifetime.

...Someone speaks in soft tones to me and says I am psychotic, but it's going to be all right. I put on my hat, unperturbed, and ask for some crayons.

I love kids, and I'm great with them, but I also love being able to give them back.